


A Dance Of Kings

by ProfessorRex



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 15:45:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12192858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorRex/pseuds/ProfessorRex
Summary: After an attempted murder in Castle Doom implicates The Order Of The Spiders King Victor Von Doom calls to convene the Council of Kings where a plot to unravel the Kingdom's begins to unfold.."They can't help, but scheme. It is the nature of kings."A heavy fantasy AU of the Marvel Universe.





	A Dance Of Kings

The man in the iron mask stalked down the dimly lit stone corridor, a long green cape was fastened to the pauldrons of his dark iron armor. His boots made light clunking noises as he walked as across the cobblestone floors of his castle. He reached out and pulled a torch from its place on the sconce. The action was followed by the whirring and clicking of mechanical mechanisms and a section of the wall retracted back and slid to the man’s right. Revealing a hidden staircase.

The man’s name was Doom and he was the King of Latveria. and on this stormy night with  thunder and lighting exploding across the skies, someone had broken into his castle and tried to murder him. They failed of course, for he was Doom and regicide was a trivial thing to him. Yet the king pondered the events as he descended the secret stairs to the darkest bowels of his castle.

The wards and enchantments Doom had placed on his home alerted him to the precise moment that the would be assassin broke into his castle, and thus they had come closer to killing him than anyone before. No one had ever entered Castle Doom uninvited, and this new precedent was troubling to the monarch, but not worrying. For he was Doom and Doom was never worried.   

He was distracted from his pondering by the distinct sound of length of leather colliding against exposed flesh. He followed the sound to a heavy iron door and set a gauntleted palm on the handle pulling it open. The room was lit by a lantern hanging in the center of the room. It bathed the room in a sickly yellow light, casting shadows around the walls and gave the pool of blood forming on the floor a ghoulish shine.

The blood was from his would be Assassin. Her ankles were bound to a set of manacles hanging from the ceiling. She had been stripped naked, and from the color of her skin Doom could tell she didn't get much sunlight. She had a mess of red hair on her head and perhaps the most interesting was the mark on her shoulder. Someone had burned the image of a spider into her flesh, and Doom knew of only one group who claimed an arachnid as their symbol. If the Spiders were behind the attempt on his life then it spelled trouble, not just for Doom, but for the  all the more troublesome.

Doom bestowed a glance upon his Royal Torturer. He was hard at work whipping the assassin. From the bloody mess of ruined flesh that once was her back Doom might have guessed his torturer was trying to cut her in half with his whip. The torturer hadn't bowed to Doom when he entered, but a man as useful as his torturer was afforded certain privileges. Doom had plenty who could grovel, but so few who reveled in the pain of others.

Doom watched in silence as the Torturer worked. The man was built like a boulder. Tall and stout, with limbs thicker than most men's heads, and Doom had found most men to be quite thick headed. His wild hair fell about his face as he kneeled down setting aside his whip. Tenderly he took the woman's hand in his own. Doom was reminded of a gesture between lovers until his tortured snapped the woman's right thumb so badly it exposed the bone. He gave each of her fingers the same affection. To her credit the Assassin had not flinched.

The royal torturer was really more of a butcher, but Doom found that torturer had a better ring to it. The man rose and perhaps only just realizing he was there bowed to Doom. "My Lord. I may have broken her too early. The only thing she said before going catatonic was this: Fear The Spider's bite."

Doom found that piece of news particularly intriguing, between that and the brand it neatly tied up his suspicions. Perhaps too neatly. "This is unusually sloppy of you torturer. Reducing her to this before gaining more information."

Doom turned the full power of his iron gaze upon the torturer and where other men would have crumpled the torturer only dipped his head fearfully. "Apologies my lord. Her tolerance for pain was irresistible. I became a bit too excited pushed her too far too fast."

There was a twisted smirk playing beneath the mask of Doom. "I should think you did. So much of her blood is on the floor. Enough that she should be dead. Yet I still hear her breathe. Why might that be?"  
   
The torturer started to speak, and the iron palm of Doom shot forward at a speed lesser men could never match. It pierced the torturer's chest and squeezed for the heart. Doom's palm closed into an empty fist, he thought it peculiar this man had no heart where it should have been. He reached instead for a chunk of flesh ripped it out and found himself holding a lung. The body of the torturer collapsed and began convalescing and Doom watched as the color faded from his skin. It turned a porcelain white before flushing a sickening shade of green and his ears elongated into points.

There was a rattle of chains and Doom looked down at his almost assassin. She had stabbed the exposed bone of her thumb into her throat and dragged it across a vein in her neck. Her blood flowed like rain and like the torturer her body turned green and ears pointed.

Doom dropped the lung and used the torturer’s shirt to wipe the viscera off of his armor. This reeked of machinations and where there were machinations there was royalty. Had one of the kingdoms allied with these creatures to take his life? Multiple shapeshifting spies? These were things Doom could handle on his own. But they had sought to frame the Spiders and thus Doom was honorbound to convene the Council Of Kings.  
___________________________________

Exactly two weeks after the events at Castle Doom a young man with dark skin and closely shaved white hair who lived two countries away in a castle much less grand. found himself being stuffed into a doublet. It had been made with a rather dubious choice of colors. The sleeves were as blue as the masculinity of adolescent boys, while the torso was red like the cheeks of a spoiled virgin. It had great white ruffled shoulders. The young man’s name was Miles and he hated that doublet.

An elderly woman fussed at him in every which way smoothing out wrinkles and ran a brush over his already short hair. Miles inhaled counted to five and then released his breath opening his eyelids and looked down at the woman. She was the oldest person he had ever met and Miles had the suspicion she always would be, but she was the closest thing he or any Spider had ever had to a mother and thus he was very cautious when he spoke. “Madame Web? I can brush my own hair you know,” He smiled down at her, noticing that the top of her head only came to his chest and he briefly remembered a time where he he could hide behind her knees.

The woman didn’t immediately stop her mothering, she took the time to smooth out one last wrinkle before stepping back from him. “You’re very right but this is a big day for you, so it’s important you look nice. The Council of kings hasn’t been convened in seventy-two years, and now you get to meet every single Monarch on the continent. All of them.” The implication hung heavy in the air and Miles didn’t have to guess at her meaning. He pushed that storm of dark thoughts away and grinned at the old woman.

“And how would you know what I look like?” His yellow slitted eyes met her grey milky white ones.

Madame Web smiled. “Because I see all. Now it’s time for you to go. Grandmaster Parker is here.” The door to Miles’ small room opened and there he was right on cue. Peter Parker Grandmaster of The Order Of The Spiders. He wore an outfit almost identical to Miles, but the gold emblem of a Spider pinned to his chest. His brown hair was neat and tidy and a smile graced his features.

“ Miles, I see you haven’t quite pulled off the art of making red and blue look fashionable. Don't worry you’ll get there one day. Come along the royals will be arriving shortly. Let's give the castle one last inspection before meeting them.” He turned away and walked out into the halls of the castle signaling Miles following along.

The smell of wet paint lightly lingered in the halls of the castle. The ancient wooden floors had been shined to a high polish and new curtains hung on the windows all in preparation of hosting royalty. Miles watched the Grandmaster as he scrutinized every window, door, and vent. The castle was usually immaculate anyway, but now it was lavish to the point of being wasteful. Still he understood the need for the facade. Kings were coming to play their grand games, the least they could do was make it look pretty.

"Are you prepared Miles?" He looked up at his master and gave the man a simple nod.

"I've studied the reports extensively, have the locations and itineraries all memorized. I couldn't be more prepared if I tried, and believe me I've tried. I understand what's at stake here sir."

The Grandmaster looked down on him and smiled. "Good, but that's not what I was talking about. When I was apprenticed to Grandmaster Benjamin, I knew I'd never get the chance to meet-"

Miles raised a hand and cut him off. "Sir. The Spiders come first, I understand this. Our power is unmatched and thus our responsibility is peace. I have always known this, and regardless of my heritage, I am a Spider."  
___________________________________

Exactly eight hundred and twenty seven yards away from the castle of the Spiders and roughly one hour earlier inside of a horse drawn carriage toiling towards the castle there sat three men and teenager who were all covered head to toe in armor. The teenager wore a black helmet with a red crest upon it's brow. Beneath it he was dark hair haired and brown skinned. His breastplate and boots were a similar color, while his gauntlets were a more vibrant yellow. His name was Sam Alexander and he was the last of the Nova Corp.

He looked out of the carriage window and pondered his situation. Here he was, a relatively low ranking member of President Stark's cabinet and yet all the same he had been selected to accompany him on what was perhaps the most important diplomatic mission of the century, and above all else he was a Nova being brought before the Spiders. Sam did not consider himself to be particularly smart but the situation made very little sense to him.

"Something troubling you young man?" Sam turned in his seat to look upon the dark tower of iron and steel seated next to him. The armor was made massive to accommodate the man within, but all the the jagged and serrated edges lining the gauntlets shoulders and knees were for pure intimidation. His name was James Rhodes, but he was far more widely known as President Stark's personal bodyguard and arbiter of justice, The War Machine.

"Nothing of much importance sir." It had taken Sam quite some time to see past the man's armor, but even so he was still hesitant to unburden his mind. "I'm grateful to President Stark and General Rogers, but I can't help but wonder why me?" When Rhodes didn't seem to immediately reply Sam could only assume it was because he too was struggling to think of a reason that justified Sam's presence.

"Sam do you remember when you asked him why his armor is red and gold and not red white and blue?" Sam looked across the carriage and watched his President and General carry on a conversation. President Stark's iconic gold and red armor contrasted with the General's red white and blue.

"Yeah, he said it was just more badass" The War Machine laughed.

"I don't doubt that, but there is more to it than that. Sam the Marvel coalition is just that. A coalition. Without giving individuals freedom to simply be who they are without reprisal the coalition would crumble. Our President embodies that with his armor, but I suspect he has brought you to embody the other part of our ideals: cooperation. If you, the last Nova can walk into the Castle of the Spiders and do what you can to preserve peace throughout the continent without holding onto the grudges of the past then that is the standard the Coalition will hold every single monarch to."

Sam listened to his words and felt the weight of that responsibility on his shoulders. "Jeez, maybe they ought to call you the Wisdom Machine."  
___________________________________

Presently at the castle of the Spiders all the monarchs, knights, dictators, and watchers had arrived. Peter Parker stood at the ready just inside the castle walls with his young apprentice at his side and somewhere inside that caravan of wealth the young Nova Sam Alexander stood at the side of President Tony Stark.

Kamala Khan however stood with her Queen. The young warrior was a member of Queen Medusa's elite personal guard and at the moment her job consisted of being as intimidating as possible. The red blue and gold silks of her shalwar made that a tad bit more challenging than her armor would have, but she had been told to dress for the occasion. She studied the room assessing each person's potential as a threat to her Queen.

"Kamala would it kill you to smile?" Kamala felt blood run to her face as Queen Medusa addressed her. "I understand you take your role very seriously, and I respect that about you immensely, but the spirit of this meeting is cooperation not conflict just look at Lunella." Queen Medusa placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and inclined her head to the newest member of the Queen's personal guard. Lunella was a young girl of eleven years. She was dark skinned and currently engaged in an animated conversation with the King Of Wakanda. "I understand your concerns, but also understand that there may never be another chance like this in your lifetime."

Kamala drank in the Queen's words but found herself questioning their wisdom. "Ma'am I understand, but is that wise? I read the reports on what transpired in Castle Doom. How can we trust anyone here? I understand that the King has to be here, but I'm worried that you are being placed in undue danger."

"I would think now more than ever we need to trust each other, because it seems likely that now more than ever we'll be forced to work together. These are admittedly uncertain times, but if we react with fear and uncertainty then the enemy has already won. That being said you will never find a greater collection of schemers and plotters, but they can't help themselves it's the nature of kings. So trust, but within reason."  
___________________________________

"Yes, but don't you think that Vibranium could serve the world? Think of what people like you and Reed Richards could accomplish if you worked together."

"I would agree with you Ms. Lafayette and I do dream of a world where Wakanda can share the wealth of Vibranium, but I also shudder at the thought of what could happen if it fell into the wrong hands." King T'Challa had fully expected to have a conversation about his nation's policies regarding Vibranium at some point but he hadn't expected to have one with an eleven year old girl. He took a knee so that he could speak to the young girl without looking down at her and look her in her eyes. The girl seemed frustrated with his answer, but appreciative of his gesture.

"But don't you think fear like that halts progress? You're a man of science you must be aware of that."

"I think far too often we people of science fail to ask ourselves a vital question while on the pursuit of progress: Just because we can do something should we?" T'Challa could see Lunella thinking over the question he posed and as the gears whirred in her mind he wondered what the girl's future would bring.

"Excuse me, might I have my husband back?" T'Challa and Lunella both looked up at the voice piercing their thoughts. T'Challa's eyes as they often did followed the curve of her leg up to the bit of exposed thigh where the slit in the fabric of her gown ended. She was dressed in white, matching her hair and contrasting the black of his Panther habit. Lunella for her part sputtered out a few words.

"Y-yes your g-grace of course." She did a frantic curtsie and walked away. Ororo raised her eyebrow and turned to her husband a quizzical expression on her face.

"Was it something I said?" T'Challa's rose to his feet and his only response was laughter. She waited for her husband to cease his chuckling. "Why do people always do that? That little girl can boldly question a king but when I speak she goes to pieces.

The King responded with more laughter. "To misquote a poet my love: What is a king before a goddess? Nothing."

Ororo would have rolled her eyes if they weren't surrounded by monarchs. "Flatterer. Well while you were debating with children, I've been quietly informing the assembled monarchs that Wakandan delegation will be entering the castle first. I would have appreciated help."

"My love, you who commands the heavens has never needed my help. Besides, I assumed that went without saying. No one is going to stand between us and our son. Not after we've waited this long."  
___________________________________

Peter and Miles stood side by side just inside the great hall. The hall had been covered with trays of food, and cups were filled to the brim with wine. The elder spider was poised and alert. He reached out with his senses and searched for something amiss. When he found nothing it only concerned him. Experience had taught him that there was always something wrong. He pushed that worry aside as the guards opened the door to the main foyer and royals began pouring into the great hall. When he saw who walked in first his heart simultaneously soared and wept for his apprentice, but he could offer no comfort at the moment. The rest was up to Miles, but he could still take the lead.

"King T'Challa, Queen Ororo it is to good to see you. Though I wish ot were under better circumstances." Two sets of eyes were on his apprentice. One set contained the gentle blue of the skies while the other contained the wisdom and ferocity of the jungle cast in a threatening shade of yellow. The Queen had no words and when the King spoke his eyes were not on Peter.

"Grandmaster Parker I have waited for this day for over sixteen years. As far as I'm concerned the circumstances could not be better."

Miles had yet to say a word and from the corner of his eye he could see him staring back at the people who were unquestionably his parents. Even Peter couldn't help but note their similarities. So as the tension and awkwardness plateaued it was Miles who saved them.

"I don't think I'm at a point where I can call you mother or father without reservation. I'm grateful for this opportunity to meet you, but we must remember our stations. There will be time for us to talk, but that time is not now. King T'Challa the hall of kings is ready to receive you. Queen Ororo please take a seat and enjoy the feast."

This time it was the king who was without words. Peter stared into his eyes and he could see that the King understood his son, and how could he not? Responsibility before self was something that all of them understood. The Queen felt her chest tighten, and above the castle's roof clouds gathered and darkened, as she exhaled a smile was brought to her face. "As you wish my son, and make no mistake. I have waited far too long to call you my son. I will not pass up any opportunity and you will eat with me." The queen left them to their own devices taking her place in the grand hall.

T'Challa could not resist a chuckle. "It may be clear to you already, but your mother is quite the imperious woman when she wants to be. As you said we'll have much more time together. Good bye Azzari, I'll be counting the minutes till we speak again." With that king headed off down the hall towards where the kings would gather.

Peter's fist unclenched as the king walked off relieved that the first encounter had gone as smooth as it had. He met the puzzled gaze of his apprentice, who asked him a single question. "My name is Azzari?"  
___________________________________

The hall of Kings smelled of candle wax, and was as one might expect dimly lit by several candles. It had no windows and there was exactly one point of entry. In the center of the stone floor was a round table, and at that table sat a circle of rulers.

The kings dominated one half of the circle, T'Challa then Black Bolt then Namor then Doom then Thor. Opposite them sat rulers of a different kind. President Stark, Professor Xavier, and Doctor Strange. Strictly speaking the last three were not kings, but the forces they commanded were mighty enough to warrant them a seat at the table.

Grandmaster Parker did not sit, instead he stood. It was his role to moderate. "In accordance with the treaty of 616 we are now called to order. The Council Of Kings has been called to convene by his royal majesty of Latveria, King Victor Von Doom. You have all been provided with documentation of the conspiracy that King Doom has discovered. A plot to frame the Spiders and destabilize peace on the continent. Doom the floor I'd yours."

Doom's voice reverberated as it came from beneath his iron mask. "There is not much to be discussed. My doctors and sorcerers have examined the creatures body, as soon as we determine it's origin Latveria will destroy them all."

President Stark snorted. "If these things had a beef with Metal Face and Metal Face alone I'd say let him handle it, but they tried to make it look like the Spiders did it. We need to figure out how they're infiltrating us. Parker, you got any leads on the agent they replaced?"

"Yes actually." Peter had always chafed under Stark's flippant attitude. "Her codename was The Black Widow. She had been doing deep cover work in Latveria for almost two years. She sent back consistent reports and never compromised herself. A model agent really. The only time she ever missed a report was when she left Latveria to scout some uncharted territory out west. Given the mission I didn't think much of it, but if there were ever a time she would have been replaced it would have been then. Assuming the enemies don't exist within Latveria."

"And do you think I wouldn't know if there were spies among my people?" Doom spat venomously.

"Evidently Doom, you didn't. Don't take it personally though. I have spies in all your nations, it's part of my job."

"A fact that I'm sure we're all well aware of Grandmaster Parker." Charle's calm collected voice cut through the rabble like adamantium. All of the men in the room were immediately reminded of their sternest and most beloved teachers. "More concerning to me is the forethought to frame the Spiders. It implies a certain knowledge about our customs. We walk a tight rope of checks and balances. The Spiders turning murderers would upend our peace. I think it's likely that the enemy may already be among us."

The psychics words were weighty, but certainly no heavier than a crown. The son of Odin decided to speak. "Aye well spoken professor, but that gives us more problems not solutions. The western territories need to be explored for the enemy, and if the enemy roost at home then we cannot leave. A two pronged strike is necessary. Let our armies March west. While we stay put and defend our homes."

Namor scoffed. "I thought you were called The God Of Thunder not The God Of Thundering dumbassery. You suggest we mass our armies and just have them walk west? We have no idea what we'd be walking into. And is now really the time to be dividing our forces?"

"Stay your tongue oh King Of Fish! You should know better than to mock the son of Odin!" Instinctively his hand flew to his belt ready to wield his hammer as he rose to his feet.

"Stay yourself Thor. What would your darling brother think?" The Grandmaster's words froze Thor in place as he met his gaze.

"You dare Spider?"

"I only dare to keep the peace oh son of Odin. As is my role. Please sit down." And like a well trained pup he did.

T'Challa broke the silence. "While I do not agree with Namor's crass. I do acknowledge that he raises valid points. If we were to investigate the Western territories it would be better if we sent out a smaller well trained strike team able to recon the area. I'd rather not separate our armies from our nation's should an attack come from within."

"Yes which brings me to the final point. Given some time my sorcerers and I may be able to devise a way to reveal our enemy. Though it will require some collaboration with the venerable King Doom. I'd like to study the body myself." Doctor Strange finished and a singular nod from Doom was his reply.

Grandmaster Parker turned to the silent King. Black Bolt had made no moves relay information.

"Is this all agreeable to you King you Black Bolt?"The Lord of the inhumans smiled and as his face turned a ghastly shade of green and his ears elongated to fine points he whispered a single word and the might of his voice destroyed the room.

"yes"

**Author's Note:**

> This was partly inspired by Game Of Thrones and partly by D&D. I'm not sure if I'll continue this, but I've been wanting to get it out for a while now. Leave comments if you would like to see more.


End file.
